Tale of the Dragonborn's orphan
by Gol Heim
Summary: Dovahkiin. An adventurer who is brave and powerful, or was. This is a tale not of the legend, but of those he did not mean to leave behind.
1. Somber news

Chapter 1: Somber news

The sky was a bright, clear blue, with only a few wisps of clouds slowly drifting about as I sat on balcony of the enchanting tower. Lakeview Manor was always so pretty. When the sun shined, the various plants in the garden seemed so vibrant and colorful that they appeared incandescent. Well, the mushrooms my father grew actually did glow, but they still looked beautiful in the sun.

In the rain the forest was fantastic. The air itself grew damp and when I breathed it in, I felt alive and alert, as if I was in tune with the whole forest.

At night though, when the skies were clear and I could see the night sky lit with stars and cosmic colors is when I think the Manor was the most beautiful. The forest seemed even more alive at night when I could hear crickets singing and bats fluttering just overhead. Sometimes at night, just for a moment, all noise stopped and the whole world seemed to still. Then suddenly a cricket would chirp, some bats would squeak overhead, and the night would come alive again.

However, none of it compared to my father.

You see, I didn't always live here. Not too long ago, I lived in a sad little farm just outside Whiterun. Well, at least I did till my momma died. My father left when I was very little and I never knew him, so my aunt and uncle inherited everything, including me. They owned the farm for ten minutes before they kicked me out. Said I wasn't good for anything.

After that I went to Whiterun. I didn't have any place there to stay, but I knew I wouldn't last long out on the road.

So that's how it was for awhile. Begging in the square during the day and sleeping behind the Bannered Mare at night with the town beggar, Brenuin as my only friend.

It went on like that for a few months, and then He showed up.

It was an ordinary day. I was sitting under the big tree in the wind district, begging again. All of a sudden, a huge warrior in dark armor strode towards me. At first I was terrified. The man wore dark ebony armor and a steel, horned helmet with a terrible face. Even his weapon seemed menacing, a black, curved greatsword, the likes of which I had never seen before, was strapped securely on his back.

I wanted to run at the first sight of that cold steel mask, but Brenuin's words rang in my head "Listen sweetie, if you wanna live here on your own, you gotta beg in the square. Ask anyone who passes by for money if you wanna survive."

I nodded to myself and took a deep breath. Putting on my sweetest face I stepped in front of the man "Excuse me sir. Could you spare just one coin? Please?"

The dark warrior jolted in shock as soon as he heard my voice, clearly not expecting me to speak. He looked around the square and then back down at me. "Shouldn't you ask your parents for money?" He chuckled.

My gaze drifted to the ground as I told him the story of my mother. "-I… I don't know what to do. I miss her so much." It had been months since I left my home, but I still teared up a little after I told it.

I couldn't see the man's face, but he was as still and silent as a statue. After a moment, the warrior silently rose and reached into his traveling pouch. He pulled out a coin purse so large that he needed two hands to hold it.

When the man handed me the enormous sack, I was so stunned that I could barely stutter out a weak "Th- thank you."

The warrior nodded silently and quickly strode towards Dragonsreach, leaving me struggling to hold more money than I had ever had before.

After giving a few coins to Brenuin and buying the first decent meal I'd had in a long time, the day ended and faded into night. After a few days of renting a room at the Mare, my gold finally ran out and I had to sleep out back again.

One night, I was awoken by a light shake to the shoulder. Shit, no doubt a guard who found out my sleeping spot and was here to arrest me for lollygagging.

Ready to put on some crocodile tears and hopefully get some pity, I looked up at who woke me.

To my surprise, the person who stood above me was not a guard, but a handsome knight in black shining armor. His eyes glimmered blue and his wild hair was as yellow as straw with a small beard to match.

It took me a moment to notice the horned helmet under his arm and the scary dark sword strapped to his back. It was the same man from before!

"Lucia. Wake up." He said gently. "I have something important to ask you."

I was immediately surprised that he remembered my name. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and nodded. "Hmm?"

The man took a small breath and smiled to himself, as if he was thinking about the reaction to what he would say. "Lucia, do you want a home?"

If I wasn't awake before, I sure was then. I practically jumped to my feet. "Yes, yes of course! Why?"

The man looked at me and smiled warmly. "Well… I could adopt you, if you want."

To say I was surprised would be a massive understatement as I stood there and gaped at the man. "Are you… are you sure?" my voice barely a whisper.

The man laughed. To me it was the most beautiful sound I'd heard in a long time. It was warm, jovial and almost melodic. It was a laugh that made you grin and feel good all over.

"Yes of course I'm sure... Daughter."

I laughed excitedly and wrapped my arms around his neck. The man patted my head and headed toward the main gate with my draped around his neck like a scarf.

After we rode to his home on a magical dark horse with red eyes, he introduced me to his friend and steward, Faendal of Riverwood.

My father was wonderful beyond compare. Brave, powerful, heroic, perfect, absent. I understood there were far more important duties that the Dragonborn had other than taking care of a little girl.

Still, it pained me when my dear father would disappear for weeks, sometimes even months at a time. Faendal was a sweet Mer, if not a bit awkward, but he was not much of a caretaker.

After my father left, Faendal would often take me back to visit Whiterun and Riverwood. It was sweet, even if it was mostly so he could see Camilla Valerius.

As I was reminiscing, Vix, my pet snow fox, nudged my hand. I smiled and stroked her back. I had found (and adopted) Vix a few months ago. I was so nervous about whether my father would let me keep her when he came home.

When he finally came home and I introduced them, my father smiled at me and said. "She's a very pretty vixen, and you two seem close. Be sure to take care of eachother okay?"

I promised that I would take care of Vix and thanked my father profusely.

Before I could continue my daydreaming, I heard a swift knock at the front door downstairs. I picked up Vix and slid down the ladder to the second floor.

As I headed down the stairs to the first floor, I overheard bits of conversation. "-Lot of gold… about your inheritance… for your loss."

I paused. Faendal's loss? I don't remember him mentioning any family in Skyrim. Although, he had previously worked for Gerdur and Hod at the lumber mill. I pondered and suddenly gasped. What if Camilla had been killed? How terrible that would be for him.

The door closed as the courier left, but Faendal stayed in place, opening the letter.

I tiptoed behind him, so as not to disturb his reading the letter.

Suddenly Faendal gasped, so loudly in fact that I nearly tripped. He began to look about the room in panic and he suddenly gripped his hair.

I walked up to him, suddenly worried. "What's wrong Faendal? Are Hod and Camilla okay?"

Faendal began to sweat as he gaped at me. His gaze seemed elsewhere and tears started to form in his eyes.

Suddenly, for a moment, a jolt of fear ran through me. No no, that was impossible. I shook my head.

But then I looked back to Faendal. His face was like nothing I had ever seen before. Panic, shock, worry, pain. I could read the emotion on his face as clearly as my yellow book of riddles.

A dull thrum of panic began to well up in my gut. As if possessed, I snatched the letter from his hands and bolted away.

Faendal yelled and started after me, immediately tripping over Vix.

By then I was long gone. Up the stairs, up the ladder, and up on the roof to my secret spot where I could be alone.

I clutched the letter with both hands to my chest. I was beginning to shake.

"This is stupid." I protested. "He's fine. Everything is fine." I told myself, yet my hands gripped the letter so fiercely that I had to force myself to open them.

I smoothed out the parchment on my knee and began to read. "Faendal of Riverwood, In the name of Jarl Siddgeir, it is with great regret that we inform you of the Dragonborn's death..."

Panic rising. Surely it was a mistake, so I read it again. "inform you of the Dragonborn's death…"

Shaking getting worse. I read it again. "the Dragonborn's death…"

Reading it over and over, praying for the text to change. "Dragonborn's death."

Suddenly I couldn't breathe normally. My breath came in short, hurried gasps.

"Stay calm stay calm stay calm." I told myself. "Read the rest of the letter."

"The deceased has bequeathed unto you a measure of inheritance in the amount of 150 gold pieces."

Wrong. True, my father's visits had been brief and far in between, but every time he came home he brought a small cache of wealth. Sacks of gold, jewels, artifacts, treasures.

I sighed with relief. If he was really gone, my father would have left us in good hands with much more than 150 gold.

The letter continued "The Jarl's court has levied an amount of 100 gold pieces from the sum, as the lawfully and honorably due tax. The remainder has been commended unto the care of a trusted courier for deliverance."

My breath froze in my lungs. Nothing. They had taken it all.

"While all of the Jarl's court grieves with you on this day, we rejoice in the knowledge that the deceased was in possession of dear friends and wealth to communicate unto them."

"May this lawfully bestowed inheritance prove as a reminder of your enduring faith in one another, and of the Jarl's beneficence accorded unto you both."

I couldn't move. It all made sense. In life, my father stood as a monument of strength and power. Now that he was dead, there was nothing to stop the politicians and rats from picking up the pieces he left behind.

Slowly I dropped back into the enchanting tower and down into the manor.

On the first floor, Faendal was rapidly scribbling on some parchment with a quill and some ink. Trying to keep himself occupied no doubt. Still, I could see tears streaking down his face as he angrily swept them away with his sleeve.

Faendal was a nice enough man and an excellent housekeeper, but certainly not a caretaker. More than likely, he was afraid that if he spoke to me it would make things worse.

I trudged over to the table he was working on and silently deposited the letter of inheritance next to him.

He nodded a silent thank you, either unwilling to speak or unable to.

I blankly floated to my room and into my bed. Other than the throb of pain in my abdomen, nothing felt real. Just another day of waiting for my father to return.

It was getting close to the day where he usually came back. Any time now he would burst through the front door with treasures and love, excitedly telling me all about his latest adventure. The day after he would show me how to string a bow or teach me to dance or instruct me on how to swing a sword.

Vix whined and curled up next to my bed when I offered her no response.

His flowing blonde mane and electric blue eyes. His warm, comforting grin, gone forever.

I curled into a ball under my covers, as if I could hide from the world, from the pain. Silently I wept, for my lost father the Dragonborn.


	2. Visit from old Friends

CHAPTER 2: Visit from old friends

After the news of my father's death, I refused to come out of my room. I hardly even left my father's now empty bed unless it was to take a few bites of the food Faendal left for me.

The world was empty, pointless. Why go on without the man that made my life worth living.

After a couple days, Faendal came and sat by my bed. He told me not to worry about who would take care of me and that my father had many friends and left us in good wealth. He assured me that my father loved me very much and that he did not intend on leaving me so soon.

At the time, I didn't really care what happened. I just wanted the pain to end.

Weeks went by. Dull. Empty. Painful.

One day, another knock arrived at the door, this one noticeably harder than the last.

My ears perked up as I laid in the master bed, but I did not move. I heard Faendal move to open the door and then a sudden Crash.

My eyes sprung open and I shot out of bed, Vix close on my tail.

When I sped into the entry room, I suddenly stopped. Faendal was getting himself off the ground and some rough looking people had stormed into the house. It looked like they had knocked him over bursting through the door.

There were five men and two women, all rough looking people except for a redheaded man in blue robes who approached me with a smile.

Faendal tried to get between me and the stranger, but two tall men in steel and leather armor got in his face and backed him against a wall.

The redhead dressed in blue turned around. "Dirge, Maul that's enough. This isn't a raid."

The man in steel, Maul, growled at Faendal and backed off. The rest of the people began pointing out different parts of the manor and headed to the back rooms.

I began to tell them that they weren't allowed there, but the nice man drew my attention by clearing his throat.

"Hello there little lass, my name's Brynjolf."

My eyes narrowed in suspicion. "I'm Lucia."

"I know." He smiled. "Your papa spoke of you often."

My eyes widened and then narrowed in suspicion. "You knew my father?"

Brynjolf nodded. "Oh yes, we were great friends." He offered me a hand and I took it. Brynjolf led me to the front porch outside and pointed to the doorframe. "Have you seen this before?"

I nodded. There were two marks that my father had carved long ago. A dimond and a triangle with circles inside of them.

Brynjolf pulled back his sleeve and revealed a tattoo of the same diamond and circle design on his forearm.

I gasped in shock.

"You see lass," Brynjolf smiled. "Your daddy was the leader of our… particular group of business associates. A position which I now hold." He kneeled down so that his eyes were level with mine.

One thing my father left me was his vast collection of books, including Shadowmarks and Fall from Glory. "I've done some research, and I know all about the thieves guild." I crossed my arms trying to sound smug.

The man grinned and scratched the back of his head. "Aye. He always said you were a clever girl. Your father loved the thieves guild. He brought us back from our run of bad luck and back into success. He would want that to continue after he passed."

I peered back into the house and my blood ran cold. One of the women, a high elf dressed in black, was heading for the front door holding my father's rose staff and wearing his aetherial crown. I looked in front of the house and noticed that the guild had brought an entire horse drawn wagon for carrying luggage.

"I know what is going on." I muttered darkly. "You're not my father's friends. You're here to steal his treasures and gifts he left us. You're nothing but scummy rats scrabbling for the crumbs he left behind."

Brynjolf pinched the bridge of his nose and stood. "I'm losing my patience lass. The Dragonborn is dead, it's over. Take solace in the fact that since you were his only daughter, we're being courteous enough to let you take your things and leave. This is a personal favor out of respect for the man, so be grateful."

I was about to scream in the man's face, but I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked back into Faendal's face. He too seemed angry and betrayed, but he was also afraid. "Please Lucia. We don't have a choice right now. I promised your father that I'd keep you safe and that's what I'll do. We'll find a way." He offered a weak smile.

Brynjolf shrugged and fixed his collar. "We might've taken you in if you were older, but we're not running a beggars guild." He shooed me like some pest that was irritating him. "Go on now, pack your belongings. I have things to organize." He strode back inside shouting orders at his men.

I wanted to cry, I really did. Maybe I was too angry to cry. Maybe I had just run out of tears.

However, the clouds cried for me as lightning lit the sky and a downpour started. Faendal led me back inside so we could pack our things.

...

A.N: _I hope you guys are liking this little story so far! It's not going to be too long._

 _I feel like this is a perspective that few writers entertain. "What if..." Think on your decisions. If you died, would your loved ones be in good hands? Did you make the right friends? Or the wrong enemies?_

 _See ya in the next chapter! ;D_


	3. Shadows of the past

CHAPTER 3: Shadows of the past

Packing things didn't take long, since there wasn't much left to take with us. The only things the guild spared were a few books, a couple of tiny dresses, the doll my father gave me, and the dragon bone knife I'd hidden under my bed.

The thieves had taken most of the valuables in the house. All the armor, weapons, artifacts, gold, and jewels were gone. They had even eaten the food.

Faendal did his best to comfort me as we packed, telling me that that "We'll be alright." and "We'll figure out what to do once we reach Riverwood."

Suddenly I stopped packing as I had a lingering fear. Faendal was kind and dutiful, but he was certainly no caretaker. Without my father around, what reason did he have to stick around.

I turned to the stressed elf. "Faendal, will you take care of me? Will we live in Riverwood?"

Faendal bit his lip and wrung his hands. "We'll talk about the details once we get there, I promise." He rose and quickly exited the room.

I closed my eyes and swallowed twice, trying to dislodge the lump forming in my throat. I took a deep breath and continued to pack.

When my bag was all packed and ready, I waited in the now empty entryway. The thieves had cleared out almost everything in the house. The beds were stripped, the walls and cabinets were bare.

Faendal exited his room. He had only packed a bit of food, his bow, and a camping pack for the journey to Riverwood. Most of his belongings were at his house. He gave me a sympathetic look and exited the house.

As we headed down the hill, I spied a target and dummy that my father had set up. I remember how proud he had been when I hit my first bullseye. I remembered when he first taught me to swing a sword. He had smithed it just my size. The Dragonborn wasn't usually around, but when he was, he was always a kind and loving father.

I held back a sob, but it still came out as a sniffle.

Faendal looked down at me and gave me an awkward pat on the head.

Riverwood was a full day's walk and the two of us couldn't ride because the thieves guild "required" all the horses in my father's stable. So we walked.

At nightfall, Faendal set up camp beneath the guardian stones. The spot was frequented by hunters and was fairly safe to sleep by.

After an awkwardly silent dinner I went to bed in my cot with Vix and dreamt of my father.

 **...**

In the dream, I was crying next to my mother's corpse in our old farmhouse. Behind me, my cruel aunt and uncle chuckled and whispered to me about how I was useless and they hoped I died out on the road.

As they began to drag me away from my mother's body I screamed and fought their grasp. I looked back to the spot where my mother lie and suddenly realized that the body was no longer my mother, but my father the Dragonborn.

His mouth was open as if he were screaming, but no noise came out. His once brilliant eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.

I sobbed and cried out to him, desperately trying to reach my father. But it was no use. Cruel hands gripped my arms and clothes and pulled me away. The arms shook me and covered my mouth. I felt like I was suffocating. Alone, abandoned.

 **...**

Suddenly I jolted awake, only to find that there actually Were arms grasping mine and a hand over my mouth.

"Quiet now girl." A voice whispered over me. "You'll wake the elf with your crying."

Another voice whispered in the dark. "Be kind Babette, this one is his daughter."

I was so confused. The first voice sounded like it belonged to a child, while the second one was deep and aged as if it belonged to a grown man.

I tapped the hand over my mouth gently and it pulled away. I took a breath and whispered. "Who are you?"

The girl's voice scoffed. "Your father never told you about us? I'm almost dissapointed."

"It was his decision Babette." The man replied. "We have no right to question how he raised his daughter."

While the two were distracted I snapped my fingers and lit a candlelight spell, illuminating them both.

The first voice did indeed belong to a small girl who looked no older than me and whose eyes glowed red. The second voice belonged to a large redguard man dressed in red and black Hammerfel garb.

The girl hissed and brandished what looked like tiny fangs. "Clever indeed, learning a spell like that at your age. He always did hold you in high regard." She turned to the redguard man. "See Nazir? I told you she was worth it. This is what he would have wanted."

The man, Nazir shifted uncomfortably and crossed his arms. "Regardless, the decision is hers now. The girl's future should not be dictated by anyone but herself."

My curiosity finally got the better of me. "Again, who are you people?"

Suddenly, a third man jumped out from behind the two. He was dressed in a red and black jester's garb. "Why we are us silly! Who else would we be? Hahahaha!" The man cackled.

The first two shushed him loudly.

"Cicero!" The girl chastised. "We agreed to let you come if you promised to be silent."

The jester gave a sheepish grin. "Whoopsie hehe. But the dear listener's daughter must come! She must be the next listener! Oh joy! Off to a delightful life of murder and loyalty to our sweet mother." His face grew somber as if remembering something sad, and then immediately grew serious. "Just as her father did."

My eyes widened as my memory grew clear. The books I had read. The Five Tenets, A Kiss Sweet Mother, and The Brothers of Darkness.

I put a hand to my mouth and whispered. "The Dark Brotherhood."

Cicero applauded excitedly and hopped up and down. "Ooh so the girl does know us. Perhaps the listener mentioned sweet Cicero to her?"

Babette interjected before I could respond. "Since you know who we are girl, we're her to inform you that your father was our leader."

I shook my head in disbelief. "No, he wasn't a murderer."

Babette seemed to take pleasure in my discomfort and grinned wickedly. "You're right, he wasn't a murderer... he was an artist. Do you know how your dear father used to carry out his contracts? He would cast a spell of madness on his victims, making them blindly attack anyone near them. Townsfolk, guards, family members, friends." The girl held back a chuckle. "When the poor bastards came to, they had already murdered someone. All your father had to do was sit back and let the city guard put them down. Genius really."

Lucia felt like she was going to be sick. She rose from her cot and kneeled by the lake. There was no way her father could ever do something so horrible. He was a good man, a good father. It was impossible.

After taking a few deep breaths she looked back at the trio of assassins.

Babette's mouth was curled in disgust.

Cicero seemed confused at my discomfort and scratched his head.

Nazir closed his eyes and sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I warned you of this Babette." His looked at me hard and cleared his throat. "We've come to recruit you into our dark family. It's your decision, although we feel that it's what your father would have wanted. I know your opinion of us must be questionable right now." He paused and gave Babette a nasty look. "But if you choose to join us, you may find our way of life to be to your liking. Just as your father did."

There was a moment of silence. I just stood looking at the assassins and they all stood staring back at me.

This wasn't right. My father may have done questionable things in his life, but the side that he chose to show me was his love and caring. If he had wanted me to pursue a life of murder, he would have shown me otherwise. I was almost positive that he had wanted something different for me.

I took a deep breath and answered. "No."

Nazir seemed satisfied with the answer and nodded.

Babette however was furious. "What!? What do you mean 'No'!? You're turning down a home, a family. One that your father loved and belonged to. You're willing to just throw that all away?"

Cicero sniffled pitifully. "It seems the daughter doesn't care for us." He suddenly grew angry as well. "You're nothing like your dear father are you?! You could Never be the Listener!" He hissed.

Nazir gripped the jester's shoulder, hard. "That is Enough Cicero. She gave her answer and now we will respect it." He looked down at the girl. "You too Babette."

The girl still seethed with frustration, but gave in to the redguard's order.

Nazir looked at me with a sad smile. "Fare thee well Lucia. I wish you happiness in your future. My condolences for your father. He was a great man."

Just then, my candlelight spell flickered out. Shocked, I quickly cast a new one. When the light shone again, the trio had vanished back into the darkness.


End file.
